Just Don't Kiss Me
by Lost-The-Fool
Summary: Grif helps Simmons get past all the teasing about being a virgin, by offing to make him no longer one.


"No, fuck you. Grif, this is taking a joke a little too far, don't you think?" Simmons said in distaste, scrunching his nose under his helmet.

"No it's not, and besides it won't be a joke anymore this way, right?" Grif tried to reason.

"That's a pretty bullshit reason, even coming from you." Simmons sighed pulling his chest plate off.

"Oh fuck off!" Grif scoffed ripping his helmet off his head; pout-scowling at the maroon ass-hat.

"Oh sure, keep talking like that because _that_ will make me want to sleep with you." Simmons swooned sarcastically.

Grif sighed. "Seriously dude, it's a valid offer. But only for a limited time," he rounded his way behind Simmons, whose eyes were trained on him wearily. "I'm trying to do you a favour here, but I'm not going to be generous for very long."

With a smirk, he grabs Simmons' hips and yanks him back, bringing his back flush to his chest. With practised hands, he unclips the armor and lets it fall to the floor with a loud clank.

"Hey! I know you're trying to make a point, but don't be a dick to my armor! If you break it it'll take forever for command to send the supplies to fix it!" Simmons cried pulling away from Grif to pick up the fallen armor and place it neatly with the rest of his armor.

"Fair enough. But anyway, I still don't hear an answer…" Grif teased.

"Ugh! Fine, Jesus Christ!" Simmons yelled in defeat.

"I'm not forcing you. I just wanted an answer…" Grif said, backing up to give him space.

"I know that! Just...ugh! It's not exactly the easiest decision to make when you're put on the spot, not to mention the fact that you were physically coming on to me while I was still deciding." Simmons said, looking to the floor.

"Okay, so can you take your helmet off?" Grif asked reaching up to grab it.

Simmons swatted his hand away quickly, "No, this is my one condition. You can have my virginity, just don't kiss me. My helmet is staying on."

"_Seriously_, dude?" Grif was flabbergasted. "That's ridiculous."

"Either it stays on, or your offer is officially refused." Simmons said, finishing taking off all his armor but his helmet.

"This has become really fucked up…" Grif sighed walking forward and resting his forehead on Simmons' shoulder.

"Yeah…" he muttered reaching back to thread his fingers in Grif's hair.

_ 'I can't believe I expected it to be anything but fucked up,'_ Grif smiled to himself, humming at the thought, and the feel of thin fingers threading through his hair. _'Fucked up is better than not at all.' _

His smile warped into a smirk and he reached forward and once more brought Simmons' hips back to him, bodies coming flushed together. His hands began to wander, one up his chest the other wrapped around his waist. He could feel the fingers in his hair clench and unclench, and the soft tremble every so often.

"Calm down," Grif whispered placing his lips gently to his shoulder, squeezing him in what he hoped was a reassuring hug.

"I am calm, jack-ass..." Simmons scoffed turning his head away from Grif and removing his fingers from his hair.

Grif smirked and took advantage of Simmons' now opened neck, and placed kisses along the exposed flesh. Hand still wandering the expanse of Simmons' chest ever so lightly, sending shivers and goose-bumps over every part of him. Under his helmet Simmons' face was getting tinged with red, he had to lightly bite his lip because oh god was he ever embarrassed.

He had honestly never imagined his first time. It wasn't something that was too important to him. This, however, would definitely _not _be a contender in his first-time fantasies. There was something good to say though, Grif's hands felt so soft, so good… _'Oh fuck off mind. I don't need this from you right now.' _A shiver brought him out of his thoughts, Grif was running his fingers over his collar bone and with his other hand he was running them over his abdomen. Simmons bit his lip a little harder, his arms hung at his sides stiff with his hands curled into tight fists.

"You don't feel calm," Grif said bringing both his hands running over Simmons's stomach, kneading them into the muscles. "In fact you seem rather tense."

"Oh, fuck off!" Simmons retorted.

"Keep talking like that, that'll make me want to sleep with you." Grif quoted him with a grin.

"I knew it, this was a horrible idea." Simmons said.

He started to pull away but Grif held him firmly in place. "Come on, I'm just bugging. Seriously, though, relax. It's not going to kill you."

Simmons let out a shaky breath and relaxed into the soft touches. Grif smiled endearingly and resumed his hands' exploration; one hand went down and the other up. He applied pressure or was feather light where need be. Simmons was squirming under his touch. Face now fully flushed, Simmons' was having a _really _hard time not moaning. The skin of his lip was threatening to give way under the constant pressure from his teeth that he had imbedded in it, Grif was ripping him apart in the most sensual of ways.

On the other hand, Grif was having a hell of a time holding back. He could feel every tremor, every little shiver that should have been accompanied by a gasp. It was driving him insane. But he knew he had to take his time, make it good, make it memorable; it was the most fucking effort he had put into anything that he can remember, ever.

He was careful to only tease until he got the go-ahead for more, fingers edging a little too far down and going just under the waistband of the standard issue grey sweatpants. His other hand paying special attention to his nipple area, and collarbone, which was apparently just as sensitive.

Simmons was reaching a breaking point in his resolve, he had reached the point where yes, he could admit that Grif's hands felt fantastic touching him all over, and he could think of a place where he would like them better—NOPE not going there. He had to chastise himself for those traitorous thoughts that dreamt of more. However he was having no difficulties with not wanting more—

Until Grif dragged his nails lightly down his chest, pulling the collar of his t-shirt down with them.

"Ah… shit…" Simmons cursed through clenched teeth as the moan escaped him.

Grif felt a sharp throb in his lower region, _'Shit, that's hot,' _he thought as he raked his teeth over the still exposed patch of skin of Simmons' neck.

Simmons' hands flew up and grabbed hold of Grif's, instead of ripping them off like he had planned in his head he found himself holding them firmly close to his body. Fingers laced between fingers he couldn't make himself let go, internally he was screaming. _'WHAT THE FUCK, SHOVE HIM OFF YOU IDIOT. HE'S JUST GOING TO MAKE FUN OF YOU!'_

Empowered, Grif ran his hand down and palmed the hardening dick through Simmons' pants. Simmons shivered and gasped, his hands clenched harder to Grif's. Sure hands caressed him and he couldn't stop the low groan that escaped him. Simmons' mind was reeling, it was almost dizzying to the virgin to have his blood flood south to fuel his forming erection. The fact that part of what he was feeling was his own fingers, made it that much sexier.

"I'm going to make you cum in your pants." Grif murmured in a low, husky tone.

Simmons made an undignified noise as Grif picked up the pace and began to apply more pressure. His other hand remained pressed firmly to the middle of his chest, holding him in place. His maroon helmet was incredibly in the way, Simmons was finding. Grif was placing kisses and nips over the exposed part of his neck, which was not a large area. It was maddening, but he stuck with his word.

And Grif was sure sticking to his. Simmons groaned, he could feel a weird pressure in his lower abdomen which he could only assume was an impending orgasm. He wanted to cry he was so embarrassed; his first orgasm was going to be in his pants. At the hands of his fellow soldier. In the middle of the base. Where they all slept.

"Oh, f-fuck…" he cursed.

Simmons keeled forward, held up only by Grif's secure grip. He shot his load right into Grif's hand, dampening the fabric between them. Grif smirked into Simmons' shoulder, proud that he managed to get him to come without direct contact. Slowly he removed himself from Simmons', giving him time to regain his balance so he didn't just fall to the floor without his support.

"You're a dick!" Simmons said grimacing as he stood up straight, feeling the sticky mess in his pants rub against him.

"Okay, that's not really the first thing I thought you'd say after something like that." Grif gave a puzzled look.

"How am I supposed to explain this to Donut? He does the whole team's laundry!"

"I don't know, tell him you had an amazing dream." Grif suggested with a wink.

"Oh yeah, sure, inflate your ego even _more_, please. Don't let me stop you." Sarcasm was almost dripping from Simmons' lips.

"Hey I did just get you off, a little more thanks would be nice!"

Simmons only hummed in response, he was far more interested in getting out of his soiled pants. "Hey, turn around for a second."

"Seriously?" Grif's face scrunched in confusion.

"Yes, now shut up and do it." Simmons ordered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Fine." Grif sighed turning on the spot.

Simmons was quick about fixing himself up. He pulled his helmet off and removed his shirt and pants, placing them with the rest of the dirty laundry in the corner. Pulling on a clean pair of boxers he spared an un-obstructed glance back at Grif, it wasn't often that they got time off where they could actually be out of their gear. He was surprisingly toned, still pretty chubby but there was still the muscle of a solider under it all. A blush spread across his cheeks and he put his helmet back on.

"You can turn back now…" he said quietly.

"I don't see why I had to turn around in the first place," Grif grumbled.

"For decency!"

"What decency? I just gave you a hand job that lasted less than 5 minutes!" Grif yelled.

"It was not that short." Simmons said, shifting in place awkwardly.

"Whatever, that's not important," Grif shrugged, "now sit down."

Simmons shot him a confused look, "Why?" he asked.

"Because, you're going to lose your virginity, moron." Grif said like it was the most obvious thing ever, which it was.

"What?! I thought we were done!" Simmons shrieked, stepping back away from Grif.

"Really? How sheltered were you?" Grif asked. "This is just sad…"

Simmons' grumbled to himself and glared at Grif as he sat in place on the floor. Grif smirked and kneeled in front of him; wasting no time he pushed gently on his shoulder and made him lay down. He situated himself between Simmons' legs, reaching forward he ran his hands over his now exposed chest. From this angle he could now get a look at him properly. He took the sight in with his hands just as much as his eyes; he caressed every part of his torso he could reach.

Simmons was incredibly embarrassed and felt completely exposed. He could see Grif's face and how concentrated he was on his body. It was such a serious and intense gaze it made the hands running along him feel like razorblades ripping into him to see beyond what was on the outside. Electrified razorblades, because each pass of those hands over certain spots sent jolts through him causing involuntary shivers.

Grif was entranced by the smooth skin. He couldn't help but stare, as he learned it all with his hands. But it was soon not enough. He braced one hand on the floor and leaned forward over top of him, his other hand continued to run along his torso. Careful not to hit his head on that damn helmet he leaned down and nipped at Simmons' collar bone. Simmons' gasped sharply and tensed up, he never knew he was sensitive there.

Grif sat back for a moment, only long enough to shoot a smug grin at Simmons' before leaning back down and covering his chest with soft kisses. The kisses were sweet but slightly skewed by the near permanent grin stuck on Grif's face. Simmons' was having a terrible time trying to figure out what he was supposed to be doing with himself. He was squirming beneath Grif with his legs spread and his arms pressed to his sides, trying to claw holes in the floor.

Grif let his hand wander a little lower and caressed Simmons' stomach and abdomen. Simmons groaned and reached up and grabbed at Grif's shoulders. He clung to him as hard as he could, it felt like he was falling apart and Grif was the only thing tangible left. It was taking longer than before for him to get an erection but wow, yep, he was getting another one. The feeling was overwhelming, he wanted to feel the same as he did before, and he wanted it as soon as possible. Without thinking he raised his hips into Grif's hand.

Getting the loud hint Grif ran his hand under the waist band of Simmons' boxers and gripped the forming erection. He stroked it lazily, but firmly, coaxing it up without running the possibility of him coming too quickly. He had much better plans that required him to have some energy left.

Carefully he scooted himself backwards, trailing his kisses down as he went. _All _the way down. Simmons' shivered and moaned, his hands clenched and unclenched their grip on the flesh of Grif's shoulders. Grif, no longer needing the support, used his free hand to pull Simmons' boxers down and off.

At some point Simmons' hands found their way to Grif's hair and were holding the hair firmly, pushing him down. Grif complied happily and stopped jacking him off long enough to position himself just right. He grabbed his thighs and spread him even more, a quiet muffled moan made him laugh. Mindful of his teeth but without hesitation he took Simmons' erection in his mouth and began to suck.

Simmons cried out in pleasure which drawled into a long groan, his fingers tangled themselves further into Grif's hair. Grif sucked like a pro, and got his hands in on it, one making up for what he couldn't get in his mouth and the other massaging his balls. Simmons was a writhing mess, moaning freely now, he was louder than the guns that frequently fired at Grif.

"Slow d-down," he stuttered, pulling up on Grif's hair urgently.

"Mmm," Grif hummed in response and pulled off with a soft pop.

Not missing a beat Grif licked at the hard dick, down to his balls, and past to the perineum. Grabbing his hips Grif hoisted Simmons upwards, sitting up he maneuvered so his back was on his lap and his legs were around his shoulders. No longer able to reach his head, Simmons grabbed at Grif's arms, which were wrapped around his waist securely.

A startled warble that could have been heard outside the base escaped Simmons. Grif licked again and again at his asshole. He was lapping at it like it actually tasted good, which it didn't it tasted like shit but what could you expect. This was all for Simmons' pleasure after all, not his, he had to make sure he did everything he could to make it good for him. Your first time is important, you will always remember your first.

"P-please!" Simmons cried. He wasn't sure what he was asking for; he just knew he needed to ask. For something, anything, more!

And Grif delivered.

Carefully he removed one arm to grab something out of his pocket. A packet of lube, the only reason he had this on hand was because he had been planning this for a while. Quickly with his teeth he opened a small hole in the top and put a line on his finger from tip to knuckle.

"This is gonna hurt and/or feel gross," Grif warned as he lined his finger up with the hole.

"Thanks for the heads up, asshole," Simmons breathed.

With a smirk to himself Grif smeared some of the lube from his finger around the outside of the hole, and slowly but surely worked it inside. Simmons grunted and squirmed but otherwise showed no other signed of discomfort, so Grif pressed on, working the finger in an out slowly, changing the angle each time. Simmons grimaced; it was definitely more gross than painful. Grif kissed and nipped at Simmons' inner-thighs while he worked his hole open.

"Is this necessary?" Simmons asked wearily.

Stopping what he was doing Grif pulled his finger out and wiped it on his pants absently, "Not really, it's more of a courtesy than anything."

"I don't like it…" Simmons said quietly.

"That's fine, I don't have to. But it's probably going to hurt."

"I think I'd rather be in pain than deal with how gross this is."

"Fair enough," Grif laughed, carefully sliding Simmons off his lap and back onto the floor. Wait, if you thought that felt gross are you sure you want to do this?"

"Yeah, I mean… I agreed to give you my virginity right…" Simmons mumbled.

"I'm just asking because what we've already done can count, if you feel it does."

"No. I'm sure." He said sitting up and tugging the bottom of Grif's shirt up.

"Okay then," Grif laughed, pulling his shirt over his head and throwing it to the side.

Simmons laid back again and watched Grif undress, taking advantage of the fact that Grif couldn't see his face he gawked openly. For some reason he found Grif _really _attractive right now, with his muscular arms and pudgy belly, messy hair and lazy gaze. He was getting self-conscious of his own looks. His breathing nearly stopped as he watched Grif tug his pants down and off, throwing them aside in the general direction he had his shirt. Simmons bit his lip to stifle the whimper that threatened to leave his lips when Grif reached down and took hold of his own dick.

_'Stupid thing why can't it just stay hard the whole time,' _Grif thought angrily as he worked his dick back up. He kept his head down but couldn't help but look at Simmons who was spread eagle, stark naked, staring up at him. A blush made its way all the way down his neck. It didn't take very long for him to be more than half hard, which was good enough. Grabbing the package of lube he applied a small amount to his fingers, which he then wrapped around his dick coating it as evenly as he could.

Simmons swallowed hard, the scene before him was admittedly pretty hot. However he was nervous as hell. Who wouldn't be though, he was about to have a dick in his ass. Grif's dick. He was going to be fucked by Grif. Earlier today that might have been a little more scary than it was now; now it was exciting.

"Try and stay relaxed, this is gonna hurt like a bitch," Grif warned as he grabbed Simmons' legs and pulled him into his lap once more, this time he was half leaning over him.

"Thanks for the warning, I would have never guessed." Simmons responded sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Grif said with a smile.

Lining himself up Grif watched Simmons closely for any signs of discomfort, seeing none out of the expected he pressed against him. He held his hips firmly and in one calculated thrust he pushed himself all the way in. Simmons gave a small shout that warped into a short whimper. Grif winced, but it was less painful to go in all at once than it was to draw it out and to be fair, he wasn't especially big.

"You okay?"

"You are an ass and I hate you." Simmons growled.

"Great! That went better than expected then!" Grif said happily.

"Wonderful," Simmons was dripping sarcasm.

Grif shot him a smile and breathed quickly, "Here we go."

Grif rocked back and pulled Simmons away, his grip on his hips firm. Slowly he rocked his hips forward and brought Simmons' back to meet him. Simmons grunted and grasped desperately at the floor, it didn't hurt as much as it did initially but it was still an uncomfortable sting. A half beat later Grif repeated the motion, with a little more force.

Simmons groaned.

Grif paced himself, ever so slightly increasing his strength on every rock of his hips. More, and more, and more, until he found a steady rhythm. Each rock of his hips elicited a low moan from Simmons. Being inside Simmons felt fantastic, he was worried he was going to come before they were ready to. He bit his lip as he smirked. It wasn't a smug smirk, or at least he hoped it wasn't. Part of him was just really happy he got to be Simmons' first.

Simmons was losing his cool.

He moaned loudly at a particularly strong thrust, throwing his arms up above his head and pushing off the ground back onto Grif. Simmons had never imagined getting fucked in the ass would feel like this, it was significantly less painful than people had always made it out to be and it felt _good_ even though not once did Grif hit his prostate. He knew that much about his anatomy. The feeling of the thrusts was what was getting him the most, the movement, the slap of their bodies. He couldn't help himself, he started rocking his hips himself.

Grif groaned, deep and huskily.

With Simmons moving his hips himself Grif let go and leaned over top of him, resting his hands on either side of his helmet. This angle brought stronger thrusts. Simmons gasped and gyrated down on Grif, grinding himself onto Grif's thrusts. Simmons reached up and dug his fingers into Grif's back, holding on for dear life. Grif thrust into him with swift full thrusts, rocking Simmons' whole body.

Simmons moaned, loud.

Wrapping his legs around Grif's waist, he gasped and choked on a moan. The new angle was even better than the last. Simmons gave up all attempts to hide his voice. His nails made little red trails down Grif's back, the lines crossed and overlapped as he was brought closer and closer. He quickly removed one hand from Grif's back and brought it down to stroke his now mostly flaccid dick back to life. He didn't have to do much more than hold his hand there as Grif was rocking him forward into his hand.

They were getting close and they both knew it.

Grif resorted to grinding himself into Simmons, who met him gyrating his own hips. He had to rebuild some stamina for the final wave. His breathing was heavy as he looked down between them and watched Simmons work his dick. It made his own erection throb inside the tight muscle of Simmons' ass. He raised his gaze and was met with a warped reflection of his own face. He frowned. That fucking helmet.

Simmons was confused as to why he was getting frowned at, was he not doing good? Should he be doing something more? He gasped and groaned a throaty moan as Grif suddenly sped up again, pounding into him with much more gusto than before. He threw his head back and moaned his name, he could feel himself growing so close to the edge.

Suddenly the thrusts stopped and his helmet was ripped off his head, and just as fast as they stopped they started again. Grif leaned down and captured his lips in a heated kiss. Simmons moaned into the kiss and wrapped his arm around his neck holding him close so he couldn't back away. He shuttered, his whole body shook and he came hard all over their stomachs. Grif groaned and picked up his pace.

Simmons laid there panting, his arm had dropped to his side and Grif had broken the kiss. Quickly Grif slipped out and thrust himself against Simmons, rubbing their dicks together. His cum shot out and mixed with Simmons' on his stomach and some even got up to his chest. He leaned back up and off of Simmons before collapsing back onto his ass.

When Simmons caught his breath he propped himself up on his elbows and glared at Grif. "You dick."

"No, you're Dick. I'm Dexter." Grif said with a laugh, laying back and pressing his back to the cool floor.

"Shut up you know what I mean! What was the one thing I said as my terms to this agreement?" he shot angrily.

"Don't ki—" Grif started.

"That's right, don't kiss me!" Simmons yelled as he got up.

He walked over to where Grif lay on the ground and knelt down beside him. Leaning over him he pressed his lips to Grif's with passion. Grif was surprised, even more so when a tongue slipped past his lips. The kiss was far too brief for Grif's taste; Simmons controlled it the whole time and it was great. Simmons pulled away and Grif's heart jumped into his throat and every functioning part of his body stopped.

Simmons turned and walked away grabbing a set of clean clothes from the clean laundry pile as he went, dressing before he made it outside.

"What was that face!?" Grif called after him, more confused than he had ever been in his life. "Simmons! What did that mean?! Simmons!"

"Why did you look sad?!"


End file.
